Darkly Sweet
by Gelasia Kidd
Summary: When the Addams come to Hogwarts, the wizarding world isn't prepared. But when Wednesday Addams rewrites everything that darkness means, one Dark Lord takes interest.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Do not own Addams Family nor Harry Potter, please enjoy this story though.

In a very normal town, full of very normal people, there was, but one mar. On the most southern corner, there was a large home, a mansion really, where it was always cloudy and dark, the sun never shone, but the evenings bare its sky to the moon and stars. A angular, towering mansion, with steeples and a bell that chimed a deep somber note every midnight. Cobwebs in the windows, dead bushes full of sharp thorns lining the paths, always tugging at you. There was a colony of bats that hovered in the area, and it was suspected that there was an underground cave system, and in fact there was. No one wanted to visit this place; not the marketers, nor the mailman, whom had no real choice in the matter. The neighbors brutally ignored the place, for its figure and form was repulsive to their normality, and even acknowledging it gave them deep shivers to the bones. And this was the place that the Addam's called home.

In this normal American town, one very unnatural thing flew overhead in perfect sunlight. An eagle owl of enormous brawn flew over the cookie cutter houses. A few turned their eyes to the air, baffled.. but when they realized where this owl was heading, they abruptly lost all interest in it. For nothing that came of that home was anything pleasant to notice. Their was an explosive shot, followed by a screech, and the owl came tumbling down into the yard.

"Good shot squirt!" Fester Addams told Pugsly approvingly. "I'm sure Grandmama can fix an excellent roast with that mangy bird!" Pugsly flushed, pleased, before tromping off through the thorn bushes. He ignored them as they cut into his arms and legs, as a little pain was commonplace in their home, but frowned as it tore his pants up. 'Father will not be pleased.' He thought to himself, before shrugging. The reward Grandmama would give him far outweighed the punishment Father could give him.

Entering the clearing, he saw the bird was still alive, although badly wounded. 'A pity, to waste a second shot,' he thought to himself, and approached the bird to snap its neck. The bird twisted in death pangs, revealing a parchment underneath it, blood spattered as it was. Pugsly paused, grimacing. 'Wizarding mail.' He thought to himself, feeling distaste cover his features.

Not that he had any issue with magical folk, he amended. His grandmama was a witch, and so was his mother and sister. But the regular wizarding society had certain _beliefs_ about nonmagical types like himself, and his uncle, both squibs, and his father, who suffered from a damaged magical core.

In fact, Pugsly could tolerate the prejudice to himself, or even his uncle, but his father had a rough time at it. He had learned his fathers history when he was 6 years old, with his twin Wednesday. Father had always suffered illnesses, many illnesses, and could not even function without a machine. Grandmama was completely baffled. All tests came back that there was nothing wrong with him.. except around the age he should have been showing accidental magic, instead his very touch drained the magic out of things.

His father had suffered from a magical core deficiency, so instead of producing magic, it sucked the life saving magic into a void in his core, inducing his many illnesses. There was no cure, and Grandmama had been told to mercy kill her only son. But Grandmama did not give up. Through divination and research she discovered a possible treatment: But it required more than she could manage alone. Only by soul bonding, and sharing magic with their soul mate, would Gomez Addams survive.

So his Grandmama had searched through the magical users of any amount of power in his age range; and came up with one person. Ophelia Frump had a strong magical core, and a deep rooted nature in Herbology. She was a sunlight of magic, and her mother endorsed the arranged marriage immediately. But upon meeting Ophelia, Gomez Addams was so repulsed that he fled.. only to be comforted by her younger sister Morticia.

Morticia had not shown powerful accidental magic. But she had a touch with wild, untameable things. Where Ophelia was a rod, Morticia was a whip. The subtle dark nature took to Gomez immediately, and he felt his health returning. They had soul bonded, without any approval on the matter. For that was what soul bonding really was, uncontrollable.

After a short stint where they were sure they had to suicide to be together, things had been sorted out, and they were wed. Gomez and Morticia shared dark tastes and spread it to their children. The whole family was generally scorned by the wizarding world. The parents as an unnatural occurance and the children as bizarre. And so, as Pugsly frowned at this letter.

"Father is going to be very mad," Pugsly sighed to himself, as he tore the hem of his already ripped shorts, bandaging the owl as best as he could. Mother could do further work on it. He picked the owl up, the blood staining his striped shirt, and stuck the letter in his pocket, wading back to where he left Uncle Fester.

"Whyever did you bandage the goose?" Fester exclaimed. Pugsly simply shook his head, and headed in the house. "Wizarding post," he said over his shoulder.

"Oh, those folk," Fester said, pouting. He had really been looking forward to that roast. Fester followed Pugsly inside, and closed the door with a dusty thud.

Wednesday Addams was a sweet child of ten. She knew just how to make the dolls scream the way she wanted them to, and was ever so helpful with her mothers garden. But she was small for her age, only looking about seven or eight. She knew the potions that had been given to her since she could tend the garden on her own was the cause. But they gave her gifts she was not about to decline for the sake of vanity.

"Mother," Wednesday Addams started. Morticia, trimming the heads off the roses, turned to her daughter. "Yes dear one?" her mother replied.

"Pugsly is coming in the house with some large bird screaming about death and injustice," Wednesday finished. "Can I help its end?" She smiled sweetly at her mother, her fingers trailing magic to the silvertongue plant that she had adopted as her own.

"No dear, you shouldn't take Pugsly's toys from him," Morticia replied softly. Pugsly walked into the room with the owl.

"This isn't any toy Mother," he said somberly. "Its a messenger, and you need to fix it, or we'll get in trouble like the last time." Morticia shook her head amusedly. "Oh Pugsly dear, you would think they would know better than to send those creatures to our home." She pulled the cot out of the wall that she used to tend to creatures, and work necromancy. Pugsly lay the owl down, and pulled the letter out of his pocket, laying it next to the owl.

"It is just a gunshot wound," she told Pugsly. "This is much easier than when you used the cleaver on Wednesday's cat." She started casting over the owl, and it fell into a sleep.

"Oh Mother, I apologized for that already," Pugsly grumbled, as he watched the owl heal. He was more interested in what the letter contained. Wednesday stood, brushing the soil off on her dress skirt. "Its alright Pugs, Envy is prettier now this way." She walked over the the letter, and looked up at her mother. "May I open it mother?"

"Yes dear, just don't get blood on the white of your dress," Morticia said absently. Wednesday carefully unfolded the letter, blood sticking to her hands.

"To Morticia Addams,

As you may be aware, Professor Sprout has requested to split the Herbology classes into two divisions. One division would be first through third year, and second would be fourth through sixth. The fourth through sixth year are to teacher stronger, more dangerous types of flora, which in her age, Professor Sprout can no longer handle, while managing a full classroom of children. She has recommended you as her successor for the second class, as she remembers your prowess with flora and such to be high standard.

She has told me that even as a first year, you had tamed the Whomping Willow as a pet. While it was a disappointment that you transfered out in the middle of your third year, we are would be far appreciated if you would come back for a teaching position this fall.

The best of wishes to you and yours,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards."

A.N. Just hashing out an idea here. I have a couple. Please let me know if you like it. Sorry if there is too much background information in the first chapter. If you have any questions, I'll try to answer them in the next chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Addams family.

In a castle far away, a place of learning in a country green and wide, bordered by a lake, a very elderly wizard sat down to breakfast with the few staff members that remained on the castle grounds.

Albus Dumbledore knew it was going to be a fabulous day. In fact he had ordered his favorite breakfast, and the sun was shining over the lake, having just rose. He smiled as the food appeared on his plate, eggs in a basket, a lovely muggle contraption of eggs within a slice of bread, skillet fried, with a thick gravy over top.

Madam Poppy Pomfrey glared at him sternly from the seat next to him, and poured a large glass of orange juice. Albus pouted at her, as only an older man can. He didn't particularly like orange juice, but neither hated it as well.

"Albus, you must eat healthier," Poppy scolded. "You'll give yourself one of those heart attacks that muggles are prone to with the way you eat." She shook her head bemusedly, and started in her breakfasts of fruit and egg whites.

"I neither care or want to," Albus said with a smile. "I like my eating habits, as they are." He took a big bite of his breakfast, gravy sticking to his beard, which he patted out with a napkin.

"Between this and the candies you eat, I'm surprised you aren't dead," Poppy reprimanded, shaking a fork with a strawberry on it at him. She popped the strawberry into her mouth, and sighed. "But I can't force you to change," she finished. "You are the headmaster, of course."

"Don't worry my dear," Albus said jovially. "If you continue scolding, maybe in time it will actually do good."

Severus snorted into his coffee, but resisted rolling his eyes. He placed the mug down. "Now then Albus," he drawled. "Don't encourage the woman. She will never cease to snipe at you if you encourage her to do so."

Poppy glared at Severus. "Well its more than some people do," she started. "And your eating habits are just as abomidable." She looked at his empty plate, her frown deepening, and placed a roll on it. "You eat like a bird. Well sir you are not a bird and you cannot survive on coffee and potions alone."

Severus sported a rare smile and picked up the roll, picking at it. "I can certainly try Madam." Albus shook his head at the exchange. A flurry of black feathers caught his eye, and a foul smell filtered in, ruining his appetite.

Albus grimaced and looked up. A large buzzard landed on the table, its rotting feathers falling in his precious eggs in a basket. Its grime covered beak snapped a piece of fruit from Poppy's bowl, before gaining a look of distaste and dropping it in the bowl again, covered in filth.

Poppy followed Albus with a grimace pushing the bowl away. "Hurry and take its letter away so it leaves!" Poppy snapped, glaring at it. Albus realized with a start, that under the moldy leg feathers there was an elegant parchment. He removed the parchment quickly, almost like magic, when no magic had been used.

The buzzard gave a hacking caw and defecated on the table before flying off, filthy feathers trailing behind it. Now everyone had a grimace, and no one had an appetite. Albus looked at the letter in his hand, not recognizing the flowing script, and decided he better take it to his office.

He rose, taking the letter. "I'll be off now," he started. "I think we should ask the house elves to clear up this area for lunch." Poppy nodded. "I will," she replied. "I have some sanitizing potions I think should be used."

Severus watched Albus and the letter with a peculiar look on his face. Albus was up to something, surely. Well, he would ask Albus later. He watched as Albus took his leave.

The door to the great hall closed behind Albus. Within moments of it closing, all the crystal glasses in the hall cracked right down the middle in a chinkling of noises.

Severus jumped, started, and then frowned at the glasses. An ill omen, if he ever saw one. He stood and rose, heading to his dungeons, mentally planning potions for "if the worst happens."

Shortly, Albus was in his office, glancing at the letter, as he sat carefully down in his cushioned chair. Opening the letter, he admired the flowing script, before processing it all.

"Oh, I suppose thats quite alright," he said to himself, as if in reply to the letter. He was sure no one could object. And he was headmaster. What better reason to be headmaster than to approve such things.

"Dear Morticia,

Yes, you may bring all your family.."

A.N. Uh oh? XD Please review, I live and thrive on reviews. Just adding me to story alert makes a sad Gello sad.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor Addams Family.

Note: I base this mainly off Harry Potter books and the Addams Family old series, the one from like the 60s. A lot of the references are canon. Like how Gomez was engaged to Ophelia first, and his illnesses that disappeared upon meeting Morticia.

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In an event that stunned Astronomers and Geologist across the nation, Mars did the seemingly impossible. With a violent volcanic eruption it covered half the planet in magma, destroying the last manned probes on Mars.

The last visual of the probes was of the fiery bright magma inching towards. The eruption covered the planet in flames, and the inner explosions threw the planet off course for the first time in millions of years.

In the middle of a dark forest, under the faint starlight on a new moon, a gathering of centaurs took place. Young and old, of all types and opinions. They all gazed skywards.

"You know why we have called you here," the leader of the group started. A foal inched closer to its mother. "Momma, Mars is bright." The leader look down, and walked over, patting the foal on the head.

"It as is the child said, but more," the leader continued. "For Mars indeed is bright, and that fills our herd with dread. But as some of the elder of our group have realized.. Mars has been thrown out of its regular orbit."

The silence pervaded the small clearing. For Mars was the God of War.. and what future was held to shake even Mars.

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"Now children," Morticia started. "Have you got all your bags?" Pugsly nodded rapidly, three times, and held up the shrunk trunk hanging from a strap. This trunk had been acquired years ago with a sizeable fortune. It held three bedrooms, two room sized closets, a library, a storage room the size of a football field, a potion lab, currently filled with Morticia's plants to be transplanted at the new greenhouse, a dueling room, and of course the most necessary torture room and solitary cell. All the makings of home, for only a couple million dollars.

While Pugsly carried the trunk, proud in his duty, Wednesday was preoccupied with her pet in its carrier, Envy, the faint smell of mold, dust, and bones coming off of it. Envy had fresh stitches for the trip, and Wednesday had made sure Mother had seen to that.

She looked at her parents. Her father of course, kept his fencing sword on him; a valuable heirloom. Mother on the other had had a human skull. Uncle Fester stood sobbing at the side, patting at Father's shoulder.

"Oh Gomez I don't even know what I'll do with you gone," Fester cried. "I feel like the spark has gone right out of me." Gomez simply smiled and took a lightbulb out of Fester's pocket, placing it in his hand.

The lightbulb lit up, the electricity trickling out of Fester. "There there old boy," Gomez told Fester. "You'll be fine, you've got a jolt or two spare. Plus, someone has to keep Lurch company in this old home of ours, and Cousin It will be visiting soon."

Thing pulled on Fester's long jacket, and signed, 'You O.K.'. A wagon with his magical box home sat behind him. Fester smiled through his tears. "I'll be okay Thing, its just, this home is not a home without all you guys in it."

Morticia smiled sadly at Fester. "Now dear Fester, you can write us any time with Hades, and you can use the magic mirror once a week to phone us. I've charged it especially for you." She pulled Wednesday close to her for comfort, as the parting was hard for her too. "You must be sure to let Lurch use it sometimes as well though, and as hard as it is to share, we must communicate, and international calls are not cheap."

Lurch tilted his head as he stood to the side, his natural grimace in place. "Sad," he intoned deeply. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring made with silver wire, spiderweb, and a bloodstone. "For you," he told Thing, placing it on Thing's wagon.

Thing flung out his fingers in surprise and held the ring to Lurch, signing for Lurch to put it on. Morticia smiled at the act of friendship between the two. While Lurch could not work regular magics, his elfin ancestors made for extremely capable protection and guardian spells, and she could tell that ring would work for Thing well.

Thing had been the closest person to a best friend Lurch had ever known, and the act of compassion was surprisingly deep for a monotonously feeling half elfling. They were to be moving to a magical hot spot, where dangerous things could swallow Thing up easily, for Thing could not use magic, or fight like a full bodied person.

This whole exchange of goodbyes took about ten minutes, the farewells repeating themselves. Morticia knew she had to cut it off soon. "Ma Chère, the portkey will be going off any moment," she told Gomez.

"Tish! You spoke french!" Gomez grabbed her arm and starting kissing up and down it. "Speak more!" Morticia shook her head bemusedly and pulled away slowly.

"Gomez," she told him. "The portkey." Gomez released her arm abashed, and stood, brushing his suit off. "Oh yes," he said. "I knew that." The Morticia crouched, and Thing put his finger on the skull, and locked his other finger on his wagon. The rest of the family followed suit, and Morticia smiled.

"Ready?" she asked. With a round of nods, and one final tearful goodbye from Fester, they started on their grand adventure. "Portus," she told the skull, filling it with her magics.

And they lifted off the ground, and to their new adventure.

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A.N. And another chapter is out! Thank you so much for the reviews, XxTaylorRocksXx and demon scream. I really appreciate it. For all those that added to story alert, please review. I thrive on reviews. I'm a very flighty writer and artist and I need a lot of encouragement. Most of my past stories on old accounts never got finished because I lost motivation.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor Addams Family

Note: This is book canon Harry Potter, starting at 5th book, and Post-Addams Family older series, the black and white one, by about 4 years.

I made the siblings twins, like the movies, as I'm not sure of Pugsly's age in the old series, although he appeared to be older, he could have just been husky for his age.

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The portkey took them to a splendid back alley full of trash and rats, with a magically inclined wall. The owner of the business whose back end faced that wall had arranged to meet them.

Tom of course, saw many an unusual family in his day, so while in full mental facility, was one of the few who did not flinch at the mere sight of the Addamses, with their nearly alive cat Envy, and the walking detached hand with a wagon.

Wednesday felt this was a little disappointing, as she liked shocking people, and was encouraged to do better in the future. Morticia smiled at the look on her daughters face, fiercely determined, while Tom just raised and eyebrow and opened the door for them.

"Come along dears," Morticia told her family. "Tom is really quite appalling when you get to know him, you will enjoy staying at this inn, its a total wreck."

Tom, having met Morticia before, took this in stride. He may not understand those words as a compliment, but it was sort of like dealing with foreign customers. You looked for the tone, and her tone said pleased.

"Thank you good chap," Gomez said Tom, sticking a thousand dollar bill in Tom's ratty front pocket. "We'll just ourselves settled in now won't we?" Tom, for all its worth, was made of stern stuff, and simply inclined his head.

The Addams group headed up the stairs, into the extended halls. They had reserved several rooms, although they did not need them, and since they had left in the afternoon their time, it was now evening, and so they would overnight here.

After unshrinking the trunk and letting the cat out, the children were left to their own in the rooms, while Morticia and Gomez went down for a drink at the pub. The couple had heard things about the wizarding liquor in England, but had not gotten to taste it yet.

Wednesday sat on a wide cushioned stool, with her cat purring next to her, in front of the mirror. It was too soft, and comfortable, something that was less appealing for Wednesday as an Addams. But with Pugsly in the torture room alone, she had to occupy her time somehow.

She picked up a brush from the vanity. The young girl took pride in her very neat hair. She unbraided her pigtails and started brushing her hair slowly and patiently. It would not do to rip pieces out, not when it was as nice as soft like this, like her mothers.

"Why, aren't you the ugliest little girl I've ever seen," the mirror quipped. Wednesday looked down at herself, and then looked up at the mirror, smiling cutely. "Thank you," she told the mirror honestly. The mirror sputtered for a few minutes before going silent. It had learned a valuable lesson about insulting the crazy ones.

Wednesday rebraided her hair and tied her ribbons into perfect bows. It had taken a long amount of practice before she could do this without her mothers help, but she was incredibly glad she could. At almost eleven, she should be able to do menial tasks without her mother, the dark little girl thought.

Pugsly stormed out of the trunk, looking a little green, with great big boils all over his hand and arm, and stormed down to the pub.

Down in the pub, Gomez had drunk 5 alcoholics under the table in firewhisky chugging contests, and rather sober himself followed up with a snazzy dance with Morticia, before ordering a glass of fine wine. Morticia just sipped a glass of butterbeer slowly, having no real desire to upset her delicate balance of health potions with alcohol.

Pugsly stomped into the noisy pub and shoved his arm in front of his parents. "Mother, Father, Wednesday poisoned me again," he complained lowly. The two exchanged glances.

"Pugsly dear.." Morticia started. "What was the poison on?" Pugsly gained a sullen look and mumbled under his breath.

"Speak up my boy!" Gomez commanded firmly. Pugsly dropped his eyes and said softly but clearly. "It was on the guillotine." A few tables a way a heavily drunk but very nosy witch passed out in a faint. It was the alcohols fault, we swear.

"Now son," Gomez started. "What have we told you about playing with Wednesday's toys without her permission." Pugsly lifted his eyes to his father's defiantly. "Not to. But I swear I was just doing it a little."

"Pugsly, darling, you know your sister never poisons you without good reason," Morticia scolded him. "Now drink some nightmare sleep potion and go to bed. I'll heal it in the morning."

Pugsly's eyes gleamed in happiness at the idea of nightmare sleep potion before the sullen look returned. "But I won't be able to eat any dinner tonight or breakfast tomorrrow if you don't heal it now." For the poison caused extreme nausea too, and the sleep potion would only add to it.

"Sometimes you just have to take your punishment like a man," Gomez adviced. "And dear, you can miss a few meals without any ill effects," Morticia said smilingly, pinching Pugsly's round little stomach.

Pugsly sighed. "Okay mother, father." He returned to the room, and went back into the trunk. Pulling on his pajamas he drank the nightmare sleep potion before climbing up on his favorite bed of nails.

Wednesday smiled in perfect malicious contentness. Pugsly coming back with the boils meant Mother and Father agreed with her, and that was a good feeling. The mirror shuddered internally. This child scared it, and as a animated object it only had superficial feelings, so that was saying something.

The young girl rose, and pulled on her own pajamas, which she had laid on the bed for her use. She looked at the soft bed in distaste, and pulled the comforter off the bed, making a nest on the floor, and wrapping up with a itchy woolen blanket, just perfect.

Wednesday didn't need food as much as her brother, nor a potion to sleep, as she had conditioned herself to sleep on command years ago. She hated sleeping so early, as that was time wasted, but her mother wanted to get an early start in the morning, as that was when the shops were best open, before the rush of _normal_ people. She closed her eyes and slept, Envy curling up next to her.

Down below, Morticia and Gomez finished their last drink. Gomez was buzzed and relaxed enough to sleep, and Morticia had many of the same abilities that Wednesday had, so they head to bed. They creaked open the door, and seeing Wednesday asleep on the floor, smiled at each other.

"The next room then?" Gomez whispered to Morticia. She smiled at him.

"En chambre à coucher..?" Morticia asked Gomez gently. His eyes widened in surprise. "Oh Tish, you spoke French.." he took her in his arms. They were not going to get much sleep tonight.

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A.N. The romance between Morticia and Gomez always melted my heart, even in all their oddness they were the most romantic couple I had ever seen. They lived for each other.

The french phrase was "To bedroom?" but if I mixed up where the "to" was supposed to go, please let me know. I'm not sure if the grammar structure is the same in French, and its a little bit of a challenge to work with a language you don't fully know.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor Addams Family

Timeline: HP = 5th Book. Post Addam's Family old black and white sitcom by 4 years.

Wednesday rose with a smile. She had slept well, with horrific nightmares of a large snake chasing her, only to devour her slowly. She checked herself in the mirror, the mirror standing notably silent. As was the usual, her hair was completely perfect.

She climbed into the trunk, and checked the automatically updating clock. It was, as she assumed, early. 5am was a good time for her, because before the sun rises was always the darkest, although she would prefer the sun did not rise at all. She contemplated a future vacation in winter Alaska as she tended her silvertongue sprouts she had brought with her in the potion dungeon.

"Why child, did no one come to tell me we were already here?" Grandmama grumbled at Wednesday, coming out of the bedroom that was designated as hers. She had lay down for a nap the previous afternoon, after being told how unsettling portkey travel was. Her old bones simply could not take the stress.

Wednesday turned with a smile to her Grandmama, her fingers trailing over her precious plantling. "Grandmama, we were all so terribly preoccupied with the journey, and because of the time difference Pugsly and I went to bed right away. And you know how Mother and Father are after a evening together."

Grandmama grimaced. Yes she knew too well how romantic the couple was. It was almost sickening, and it reminded her of her late ex husbands. "Why then," she started. "Did Thing not come find me?"

Wednesday frowned at that. It was true that normally Thing was a great assistance to them, between Thing and Lurch that was how the household stayed working so smoothly. She tried to remember when she last saw Thing. It had been right after the portkey.. but after that Thing had simply dropped out of view.

"I'm not sure where Thing is Grandmama.." she begun slowly. "I've not seen him for awhile and I haven't an idea where he could have gone."

"That foolish man," Grandmama muttered lowly. "He always gets into these things." Wednesday focused on Grandmama sharply. There was something she wasn't being told, but when Grandmama noticed the intent look she waved Wednesday off and stumbled away, limping on her good leg out of spite.

"Just don't mind me, and let me know when we are at at the PigTrough castle place," she snapped waspishly. "I've got some scrying to do, so don't bother me till then." She wandered back into the bedroom and slammed the door behind her, 13 clicks sounding for each lock she locked.

Wednesday stared at the door. She hated not knowing something, but if Grandmama didn't want to answer, there was no way to get a clue out of her. Subtly would be needed for this task.. and she couldn't be bothered with that _now. _She had shopping to do today.

She finished tending her plant, its leaflets reaching for her fingers longingly as she drew away. Morticia had put the other plants in stasis, even her lovely Cleopatra, but Wednesday's potions required this plant to have a constant upkeep. She nipped a bud off it before she left, putting it in a drying platter.

Wandering into the bedroom that had been set up for her and Pugsly, she pulled one of her favorite black dresses out. She looked at it, touching the pristine white collar gently. _No, this was too everyday, _she thought in a slow manner. _I will not wear an every day garment to a day that starts a new adventure._

But there really wasn't much else. There was a outfit that was a clone outfit of her mothers lovely dress.. but it was getting a little small, and she was beyond the stage of wanting to be her mothers clone.

A perplexed frown tilted her mouth in an unappealing manner. Well, she was going to get her Hogwarts uniform today, and maybe she could get a little something else as well. Sighing, she pulled on her regular dress.

Sitting down at the gothic vanity she tugged at her pigtails. While her appearance didn't mean more to her than her gifts, if she couldn't be older, than certainly she could try to make herself look older. She pulled her hair down from the pigtails it was in, brushing the slightly crimped strands.

There had been a style that she wore to Cousin Its' wedding.. her mother had done it for her, but she thought she could replicate it, and she had some time before the stores opened and her mother woke. So slowly, in a delicate tedious manner, she teased and manipulated the strands.

It was not much different than her normal style, in shape. Two small french braids lay at the top of her head, coming down to the sides. The fingerwork required more concentration, and Wednesday had that in plenty, along with determination. She left the rest of her slightly wavy hair down across her back. Wednesday had think black luxurious hair like her mothers, but without the widow peak. That was one good trait she had inheirited from her father.

She was satisfied with the results and lay the brush down. The mirror on this vanity did not try to insult her, as it was not enchanted. Wednesday Addams realized with a sigh that it was nearly 6am, and sunrise. _What a pity, _she thought. _To mar a perfectly good night with a sun._

But that meant it was time to wake her mother. That had become the pattern as of late, with Wednesday getting up earlier than everyone else, and making sure the rest of the family was awake before the day started. Rising, she left the trunk quietly, closing the lid with a gentle thud.

Striding into the hallway, she tapped twice on the door firmly. It had been her signal, a system that she and her Mother had come up with after Wednesday had accidently walked in on them in the buff. While both her parents, she knew were attractive, she had no real desire to see them without their clothing on.

It seemed that in the Addams family, such a normal thing being taboo would be quite unnatural to them, but it was true.

Morticia answered the door with a polite yawn. "Darling, what time is it?" she asked her daughter, a black silk robe pulled on top of her. It was Gomez's robe, but she quite liked it.

"Sunrise Mother," Wednesday replied, pointing to an open window at the end of the hall. "You said we were to leave early." Morticia blinked, focusing.

"Why so I did, I'm sorry dear, I stayed up I believe a touch too late," Morticia admitted. "Your father is going to have a bit of a lie in this morning, and Pugsly needn't come for this, as only you will be attending as a student."

Wednesday nodded in reply. "I'll wait for you in the bar area Mother," she started. "And see if I can't order us some breakfast." Morticia smiled gently.

"Thats kind of you dear, and a good idea," she replied. "I'll be down in two screams." Wednesday smiled at her mother and left without a word. She knew that two screams would turn into four before her mother was there, but it would be good to have breakfast ready. So she left to the bar to order breakfast.

A.N. I feel like this chapter is a whole lot of nothing, but I guess I want to take it slow and build character details a long the way. About by the time I get this chapter written I'm about burnt out of writing and need a break. I hope you like this story.

Please please please review. I live and thrive on those reviews. Without constant encouragement from you guys I will fail. I don't want to fail.


	6. Thing's Quest Part 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor Addams Family

The portkey had shook Thing up more than a little. In fact it had knocked him out cold. So caught up in their excitement of travel was the family, that they didn't even notice he hadn't followed them inside.

So it was hours later when a scuffing of boots and some murmuring woke Thing. An open archway gleamed light into the dark alley, and Thing jumped up, startled. He hooked his wagon and toddled into the lit area.

This was of course, Diagon Alley. Thing felt faintly like he had been here before. He didn't have a whole lot of mental power, but his little thoughts processed the fact he must have been in this place before. Under the lamp lit walkways, a few men and women in robes strode quickly to their destination.

A thought drifted up to the back of Things mind. _Wizards..._ A lot of stuff that had happened to Thing didn't make sense. He knew in a primitive manor he hadn't always been a detached hand, and as he saw a man try to read something on a paper as he walked, then pulling a stick out and saying 'Lumos'.. and a light lit on the end of the stick, he realized that stick was very much like the stick he'd always had, that threw off sparks when he shook it.

He found a corner to hide his wagon in and dove into his box home, scratching around in the innerly enlarged home, in a chest he used to put keepsakes in. There was a ring that he knew was fairly important, with the word "Addams" inscribed on it, and there was his stick.

He picked up the stick carefully. He didn't have a mouth like the man he had saw before. Thing wondered if it was even possible to use his stick. Shaking the wand, green and ember sparks scattered. Obviously something was working, if it would shake sparks.

He shook the stick thinking 'Lumos'. Thing felt a pulling sensation in what he considered the core of him, his palm, and the stick grew warm, but nothing happened. The sad hand put the stick down dismayed, tapping his fingers.

Of course it wouldn't have worked. He wasn't a wizard, and he didn't have a mouth. Why would that work for him. But part of him always wondered.

His past was mostly a blank space in his memory. He remembered existing, quickly and suddenly. Grandmama had always given him feelings of fear, anger, and helplessness, so he avoided her if at all possible. On the other hand Gomez had always elicted feelings of protectiveness. When Gomez had almost taken his life it was like Thing's world had ended.

Lurch knew something, Thing was sure. Lurch always watched out for Thing, and was a close companion to the hand. Lurch was.. he pulled at his mind, trying to complete the thought. It was so hard to focus, being a hand.

Thats right, Lurch wouldn't have been able to say anything. Lurch was a fey, with binding loyalty to the family, strongest with Grandmama. And if Grandmama didn't want anyone to know, Lurch wouldn't have been able to say a word.

Thing clenched his fist tightly. There was something wrong with all of this, and he aimed to find out what. His fist unclenched. But it was late, and he felt sick and tired. He climbed up into his pillow and curled up. In the morning he would start his search.

A.N. Just a short story to be told every once in awhile. Please let me know if you like it


	7. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Addams Family or Harry Potter

Breakfast went smoothly, if a bit disappointing. Wednesday decided that if the wizarding world only had such _boring _food, then she would have to assist her mother in shopping for some food supplies to take back to the trunk.

But the blood sausage had been okay, even if it wasn't the same as yak sausages and fried iguana eggs over curry mashed tapioca. Wednesday decided to find the recipe for blood sausage.. if the blood sausage was made with yak, it might be worth having.

But it was a very short breakfast, and by 6:45am they were on their way. Diagon Alley was largely empty, except for a few shop owners setting up. Their first shop, because it was the first place they encountered open, was the Apothecary.

It was dank, and dark, and Wednesday thought it smelled wonderful. "Now dear," Morticia said. "I'll get what you need for school, and you get a little besides. I assume you know what you are looking for."

Wednesday nodded. "Yes mother, I do," she started. "The simple set for school would hardly be enough for my personal potions." The girl decided to buy some of the cooking supplies here too. There was nothing quite like some ground wyvern wings in a casserole.

The dark child wandered around the lovely place. Even though it had full view to the sun filled alley way, its magically tinted windows gave the feel of a dungeon. The windows, of course, were tinted to prevent the potion ingredients from losing their potency.

As pleasant as it was in the shop, they didn't linger, and Wednesday had picked out quite the assortment of potion ingredients by the time they left. "Mother, I would like to come back there again soon," Wednesday commented, questioning her mother in a statement.

Morticia smiled and brushed her thin fingers through Wednesday's short locks. "I'm sure we can get back here during the holidays, if you can stand the wretched decorations they put up in the area." The girl closed her eyes, with a pained look crossing her face. Oh she knew those decorations far too well. Her elementary school had been decked with them every winter.

"Mother, I have built a tolerance to such things," she admitted wryly. "And the apothecary would be far worth the trouble." Morticia gave Wednesday's hair one last stroke before lifting her hand.

"If you are sure dear," she started, but was interrupted by the girl. "I am Mother," Wednesday said firmly. Morticia just smiled. "Alright then precious child," she said. She glanced at her daughters hair. "You did a good job on your hair, by yourself."

In truth, Morticia was a little disappointed. The pigtails Wednesday wore had been exactly what Morticia wore as a child. She felt a pang of melancholy. It seemed her daughter was growing up, and she would no longer be able to dress and treat Wednesday like she was a little doll.

"Thank you Mother," Wednesday replied, pleased. "I hope to get some other clothing besides this dress too," she admitted. "Its a little boring to wear the same thing every day." Morticia wasn't surprised at the statement, since the signs it was coming was there. But she would do what she could to please her daughter.

"We'll look in Madam Malkin's," she started. "But we'll need to go elsewhere for muggle clothing. Wizarding clothes are all the same, in form." Wednesday nodded, understanding.

"While you were getting ready, Mother, I spoke with Mr. Tom on the matter," she said honestly. "And he said the nearest, nicest muggle clothing store would be Fifi Wilson." Morticia's face was blank, she didn't want her daughter to see the perplexed feeling she had, even in her eyes. Her daughter really WAS growing up. It was hard to remember she was 10, not 7 like she looked.

"Alright dear," she said, resisting the urge to sigh. "We'll go there this evening. " And so they continued on their way, speeding the walk up from their slow movements in their conversation.

A.N. Sorry about no update yesterday. I got a really horrid review, and while it was largely wrong as she referred to the wrong version of Addams Family, part of it was true. I know my writing is stilted, and as young woman with autism I think I do pretty good. And I know I have typing errors and miswordings in my chapters; I plan to revise the whole story and edit them out when its done.

But she was very cruel, and I'm pretty sure she was a troll. She also left a rude review on my other story, even though she had no real background on it. She never went past the first chapter. Is that what trolls do? I don't encounter them enough to know.

So I reread my story like new today, and amped myself up to write again. This chapter may be a little short, and a little jilted, but I'm trying to get my flow on again. The horrid review only encouraged me to prove her wrong; but proving her wrong takes a lot of effort and though and encouragement.

Thats where you guys come into play. I absolutely need your reviews. I'm pleading, practically begging, for you to review. I have anonymous reviews open even. I know you guys are there. I get emails when you add me to your story alerts.

Please please review, I need you guys. I don't want to lose sticking power on this, and my autism makes that not just possible, but probable. Without encouragement I fail, thats all there is to it.

Thank you for reading, and again, please review.


	8. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Addams Family, although with my humor I half belong there. I do not own Harry Potter, but if you look around you may find some magic of your own.

After a short stop in the stationary shop, where Wednesday declined the beautiful feathery quills for a proper calligraphy pen, and an even shorter stop in Florish and Botts where they purchased the required reading, what little of it they needed. The majority of the books had long been in the Addams Library, ready stocked in the trunk for their trip.

By then the streets had begun to crowd, and it was with relief that Wednesday and Morticia slipped into Madam Malkin's. Wednesday stood on the stole as the frumpy Madam Malkin fitted her for her uniform, and a few tasteful black dress robes. One of the robes she had to preorder, picking a specific material for its use.

The silky satin material seemed black, but under just the right subtle light brought out blood red highlights. She ordered some ribbons with this material as well, as a affordable addition.

Wednesday turned her head, looking over her shoulder at Madam Malkin pinning the material. "Do be sure to prick me, Madam." The boisterous seamstress gave her a baffled glance, mostly preoccupied with her work.

"Dearie me, aren't you the odd ones," she mumbled. But the child was polite, and seemed to appreciate her work, so she couldn't find it in herself to complain. And the child was very very still, something that most children her age didn't do. She felt it was odd, a child so young getting fitted with a Hogwarts uniform, but it wasn't her job to question such things, and she had all the proper papers.

Morticia stood to the side. Her regular spooky dress had been sewn long ago, and while it had charms to prevent wear and tear, the material was far less quality than some of the ones Madam Malkin had in stock. She decided on a whim to come back with one her her dresses and order a new stock.

She realized, in a sudden thought, that this nation was in a war, and she should have at least one robe without the bodily restrictions her dress place on her. For all she seemed to glide, she knew the dress would be a hindrance in a fight. Not that that she planned to fight, but it was good to be prepared. Her mother had always enforced being prepared when she was but a child.

Morticia wondered how her mother was doing for a moment. They had been largely cast apart from each other following the marriage of herself and Gomez. She decided then that it would be proper to send her mother a letter, after she settled in at her old school.

"There now," Madam Malkin said, interrupting Morticia's rumination. "I think we are all set for the little miss." She started folding the materials and putting the pins away. "Is there anything else you need?"

"No, dear Madam," Morticia replied slowly, coming out of her thoughts. "But I will be back with an order for you later." Morticia took Wednesday's hand, and the girl let herself be led out of the shop, before gently pulling away.

"What now Mother?" Wednesday asked. Morticia looked and the bag that had held the galleons. There were a few left, but not many, and she needed some of the local muggle pounds as well.

"The little wizarding money we have brought is gone," Morticia started. "And it is high time to meet up with your father about establishing a bank at Gringotts." So they slowly walked back to the Leaky Cauldron.

A.N. Next up, Gringotts! Thank you so much for the reviews everyone. I tried to message everyone, each and every one of you, because I appreciate you so much. I hope that I can continue to hear from you. You guys are important to me!


	9. Thing's Quest Part 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor Addams Family

If Thing had been more alert and scouted the area a bit more, he would have found that hiding a small wagon with a mysterious box in it under a small bench next to Borgin and Burkes was not the most sound place he could place his home. As the dark alley gained a little light, the handle of his wagon began to glint in the faint sun.

Hale Borgin was a very curious man. A very curious man, who enjoyed collecting curious things. He didn't care so much as the difference between light and dark when it came to collecting these curious things; Dark objects were just as interesting to collect, sometimes more so, than light object, obviously.

He had originally bought the store just as storage and more of a gallery. But wealthy men shaking bags of gold at him was more than his little greedy mind could process. How was he to know that some of his curious curious things were even more curious than he had expected. He dedicated a whole shelf to items he had lost interest in, and the galleons coming in more than supported his hobbies, the store, and his minimal needs.

The elder man lifted his new acquirement, a lovely persian rug. Not only was it a gorgeous rug in itself, it was heavily charmed. When the pattern was decoded and the correct phrase spoken, it became a flying carpet. But if you spent any amount of time resting on it, it became a trap that put you into eternal sleep so long as you were on it, slowly draining your energy.

The only mar was a slight bloodstain, and an infernal amount of dust. So he took the lovely carpet out to the front, and began to shake it, enjoying the eerie quietness of the alley before the morning started. This was a rare time, before the hag in front of the spider shop came to harass the few visitors Knockturn had.

As the dust settled, Borgin lay his rug over the bench beside his shop. But while his eyes may be beady, they were trained sharp. A peeking metal handle stuck out from under the rug. And so the curious man, with little thought or fear to his well-being, pulled.

The small wagon, sickeningly bright red, slid out, with a polished deep mahogany chest sitting on top. Hale Borgin found himself incredibly pleased! A new treasure! And the small hand within his expanded space within slept soundly, unaware as the oily character placed the wagon and chest on the experimentation table in the back room for later.

A.N. Sorry for the lack of updates. I've been on a reading binge. XD Here I am though!


	10. AN: Please Read! Need ya!

This chapter is going to be a bit of a authors note. Its been awhile since I updated, yes I know, and I apologize. Part of my whole issue is that I suffer from memory loss, and as its been over half a year since I updated, I'm entirely detached from my fic. This is troublesome. I don't remember where I was going with it, and since I switched to a new computer, all my notes are misplaced.

The worst part is that I don't even remember the story very well.

What I do remember is that the silvertongue was going to be a plant that was brewed into a potion that allowed Wednesday to speak all languages, and very well at that.

I also remember that Thing was going to be moving from place to place while discovering his identity. I don't really want to spell out his identity as that would spoil the surprise, but the hints are there.

What I need is your help. I want to write the next chapter, but I don't remember much of my story, and I'm struggling to read through it again. I want to be able to stay consistent.

If you could send me messages through my author page, with various ideas on what to go into, or how to start the next chapter, that would be great. Also if you could point out inconsistencies if I make them in the next chapter, that would also be fantastic.

I want to do right by you but sometimes I can't even do right by me. If messaging is too much trouble, thats okay, but I'd really appreciate the help.

I'm trying to break them into small wordy chapters, so the chapter would probably only get to Gringotts, and with Wednesday's abilities she shall be able to speak gobblygook. (I know I spelled that wrong, and I'll look it up come next chapter)

In any case thank you for your constant support. Even through all this time you've been loyal.

I'm going to explain something, I explained in a review reply, but you deserve to know as well.

Because of my nature, I have a problem with doing things in phases, and nothing outside my phase. It will start with a game or a craft, and within 2-3 weeks will switch to something else. I do this hobby very hard for those weeks, till I burnt out, and cannot be made to touch the thing.

As you may notice from the publish to update time frame, my writing didn't go outside this phase. I knew when it was starting to die off, and coming back to it would be awhile. So I believe I am starting into a writing fanfic phase again, which is why I'm asking for your help.

These writing phases come shortly after a reading fanfic phase, which I've been doing very hard. It starts by daydreaming storylines.

I caught myself doing just that this morning. Now I don't know when or how it will start, but it should start soon with more reading. So I'm asking for your help now. I need to get this story going, but I have no idea how to go about it.

I may work on my small drabble fic, Unconditional, just to get my writing going again. I may start a new story just to get the juices going. But I do want to come back and work on this story.

So if you can, please try to message me your ideas for framing the chapter, and the people who may or may not interact with the Addams.

Thanks so much!

-Gelasia Kidd


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